


the snow, melting into music

by emlof



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU - Figure Skating, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mission Fic, Skater!Iruka, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emlof/pseuds/emlof
Summary: Kakashi reluctantly winds up on an escort mission for a young lord headed to the Land of Snow. He finds more than a few surprises once he's there.





	1. Chapter 1

Kakashi woke to the sound of tapping on his window. Groaning, he burrowed deeper under the covers – maybe if he ignored the bird that he knew sat on his windowsill, it would give up and go away, and he could enjoy the comfort of his own bed for an hour longer. 

Predictably, the bird did not budge.

As the tapping grew more insistent, Kakashi resigned himself to his fate. Huffing, he flipped the covers back and sat up. Sending the bird a glare full of killing intent, he launched a pillow at it and didn’t hold back his satisfied smirk at the indignant squawk it let out before flying off. _Serves the damn thing right,_ he thought, disgruntled. 

He deliberately took his time getting ready and walked, rather than teleporting or sprinting across the roofs of Konoha as he usually would, to the Hokage Tower, where an ever-polite Shizune gestured for him to follow her up to Tsunade’s office. 

As they passed the mission room, Kakashi surveyed the crowd out of habit. Kotetsu and Izumo were manning the desk, handing out missions and accepting reports from the crowd of Konoha shinobi. New genin teams lurked anxiously towards the edges of the room, some of the older chuunin bickered over who was getting what mission, and jounin grumbled at being told to rewrite their reports.

All the usual suspects, in other words, one Umino Iruka excepted. Kakashi felt his lips twitch downwards – it felt like the other man hadn’t been around in ages, and Kakashi was starting to feel deprived of his typical post-mission entertainment. At least riling up the teacher provided some source of amusement and a break from the standard bureaucracy surrounding missions. 

Kakashi was still absently wondering where the chuunin was when he stepped into the Hokage’s office. 

Despite his tardiness, Tsunade looked almost apologetic rather than twitching with annoyance as he had expected. It was almost disappointing. 

“Don’t throw things at my birds, brat,” she started off. Kakashi kept one bored eye on her, unsurprised that she somehow knew. “I’m sorry to call you up so soon, you really need at least a week of rest after your last mission.”

Kakashi shrugged – his still-healing side was tender, but it was nothing he hadn’t worked through before. 

“At any rate, my hands are tied here,” she continued, shooting an aggrieved glance at the door to her side, beyond which Kakashi knew was her formal receiving room. “The daimyo himself has requested you.” 

Kakashi couldn’t help but start at that. “Hokage-sama…” he began, only to have her cut him off with a wave of her arm. 

“I wasn’t finished. Now, this shouldn’t be a difficult mission – it’s A-rank in name only, because of the daimyo’s involvement. Madam Shijimi’s brother, you see, has a son. He’s waiting just through there,” she shot another resentful look to her side door, “and he requested your presence personally. He’s a big fan, apparently, although what for I have no idea.” Although her face remained unreadable as ever, Kakashi thought he could practically hear Tsunade rolling her eyes. 

“It should be a simple escort mission. Jirou – that’s the nephew – evidently fancies himself something of a skating prodigy.” Again, Kakashi got the distinct sense that Tsunade found the whole affair tedious. “You’re familiar with the civilian Five Nations Games, yes?”

Kakashi nodded – he could recall, distantly, being dragged by Minato-sensei to some arena the last time the Five Nations Winter Games had been held in Konohagakure. He had been annoyed, he remembered; why his sensei thought it so vital to take the day off training to watch civilians slide around on the ice had been beyond him at the time. He resisted the impulse to shake his head to clear his mind, resolutely shutting that memory down before he could follow the train of thought any further. Tsunade was speaking again, and her voice drew him out of his sudden melancholy.

“At any rate, the kid in there is keen on competing in the next one, although whether he’s actually good or not I have no idea. You’ll be escorting him to…” she trailed off, shuffling through some papers, “Hasetsu village and training camp, in the Land of Snow.”

She stopped abruptly, recognition flitting across her features. “Shizune, isn’t that where –“ 

“Yes, Hokage-sama,” Shizune cut her off, exchanging an unreadable look with the Hokage, who suddenly had a mischevious glint in her eye. 

“Well, brat, you might enjoy this mission more than I expected,” Tsunade said, a wry grin on her face. 

_Highly unlikely,_ Kakashi thought bitterly. The Land of Snow was notoriously nasty to travel through – all that slush and ice made for a miserable trek. _So much for that restful week._

Behind her, Shizune cleared her throat. The sound had its intended effect, jolting Tsunade out of whatever joke she was sharing with herself. 

“Anyways. Escort mission. Should be simple enough, I think. He’s got his own personal guard already, so he just wants you along so he can brag about it later, is my guess. You should probably try to keep a low profile in Land of Snow, if you can.” Kakashi nodded, already thinking over his knowledge of the area. Although it was a shinobi stronghold like most of the other great nations, the Snow’s daimyo fancied himself the ruler of a peaceful kingdom, and had never taken kindly to foreign shinobi in his territory implying anything to the contrary. Turning over his thoughts, he almost missed Tsunade rummaging around in her desk before pulling out a small package, offering it to him as he approached the desk.

“You might try that out, once you’re in Snow,” she said casually. “Sakura’s been working on it, it would be helpful to get some feedback.”

“What is it?” Kakashi asked, turning the object over in his hand. It was a small piece of an almost plastic-feeling film, clear around the edges but with a large dark spot covering the middle. 

“A lens. For your eye,” Tsunade explained, ignoring Kakashi’s bemusement. “The dark spot should completely block the sharingan and keep it from draining your chakra. And it’s a little less conspicuous than an eyepatch.”

“Impractical in a fight, though,” Kakashi mused as he examined the small film. 

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not meant to fight anybody this time, isn’t it?” Tsunade questioned him, one brow arched. She nodded at him, dismissal clear in the movement.

“Hokage-sama,” he bowed slightly, satisfied at the annoyed huff that came from the desk in front of him. 

“Get out of my sight, brat,” she snorted, waving her hand at him. “You leave tonight.”

\---

Kakashi turned up at the gate to meet his charges precisely on time – regardless of where the road of life may have wanted him to go, even he knew better than to hold up a relative of the daimyo. He was unsurprised to find an excessively large caravan made up primarily of household attendants and royal guards poorly disguised as a travelling group of merchants.

He resisted the urge to roll his visible eye. The unnecessary size of these travelling parties never failed to annoy him; despite the fact that there was only one member of the daimyo’s family on this trip, there were enough household staff for a family of six. The large guard party was so poorly disguised as traders that it would be comical if Kakashi didn’t have to play babysitter. He heaved a sigh, already dreading the week ahead. Regardless of what the Hokage seemed to think, these really were his least favorite types of missions. 

“Are you him? Are you the Copy Nin?” A nasal voice coming from beneath his elbow dragged Kakashi out of his self-pitying thoughts. He looked down and saw a boy who couldn’t be more than ten dressed in the traditional deep blue robes of the daimyo’s family. His pale blonde hair poked up messily from behind a headband that wrapped around his forehead where most Konoha shinobi wore their hitai-ate. “Hey, hey, are you him?”

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, eye arching in what he hoped would be a convincing false smile. 

“Incredible! Uncle has told me so much about you! Is it true that you know a thousand jutsus? Will you show them to me on the trip?” He was practically shouting up at Kakashi now.

Kakashi turned his gaze up to the heavens with a silent prayer for his sanity. The kid – Jirou, he remembered from the briefing – evidently had the energy of Naruto, but in a laser-like focus that was, apparently, aimed at him. He mentally cursed his bad luck that he was on his own for this trip – at least Tenzou would have been good company, although he would undoubtedly give Kakashi endless grief over his youthful fan. 

“Goro-san! It’s him, it’s really him! Come look!” Jirou shouted over his shoulder at an older man, bouncing in place with seemingly boundless energy. The man – some sort of household staff, Kakashi guessed, walked over and acknowledged Kakashi with a polite nod.

“Jirou-sama, don’t you think we ought to go sit in the carriage? You’ll tire out your legs before we even get there if you walk the whole way, and I’m sure Shinobi-san has a great deal of work to do” – he winked good-naturedly at Kakashi over Jirou’s head – “so why don’t you come keep your old friend Goro company for a while?”

Jirou pouted, but acquiesced, reluctantly allowing his caretaker to lead him to the carriage at the center of the party. As the unwieldly caravan departed Konoha’s gates, Kakashi sent up silent thanks to Goro, making a mental note to show the man his gratitude somehow on the journey. 

\---

Walking through the lush forests at the northern border of the Land of Fire, Kakashi couldn’t help but admit that this really wasn’t as bad as he had anticipated. Staying in village inns and onsen was certainly a welcome change from sleeping in trees, although he would eat his hitai-ate before admitting that to anyone back in Konoha. And aside from one minor skirmish with some outclassed bandits, who beat a hasty retreat when Kakashi revealed himself, it had been a quiet trip.

Jirou came looking for him almost daily, invariably demanding another jutsu demonstration. His entitlement was grating, but Kakashi knew he didn’t have much of a choice in the face of his relentless enthusiasm – and his title. Thankfully, Goro was there most of the time to gently steer his young charge away, immune to any whining after years of experience. 

He had been Jirou’s tutor and caretaker for many years, Kakashi learned one day as they walked through the woods, air becoming progressively more crisp as they got closer to the northern seashore. Kakashi was impressed with the man’s seemingly boundless good nature – despite Jirou’s near-constant whining and occasional temper, Kakashi never once saw the elderly man snap at him or lose his kindly nature. It was a testament to his patience – even Iruka would have lost his temper with the youth, Kakashi was sure, chuckling as the image of the irate sensei shouting down the daimyo’s nephew popped unbidden into his mind. 

They were making good time, Kakashi mused as they reached the port city and awaiting ship. Provided they didn’t run into any bad weather at sea, their journey would be over soon and he would thankfully be free to leave his annoying charge behind. 

\---

Stepping off the boat and into the Land of Snow, Kakashi could feel the change in the air. What had been a brisk breeze on the mainland was now an icy wind that cut to the bone, and he was grateful for the thick scarf wrapped around his face in place of his mask. 

He had put Tsunade’s lens over his sharingan before getting off the boat, and felt somewhat bare without his hitai-ate or a patch covering his eye. Without the hitai-ate to hold it up, Kakashi could feel his hair flopping over his face and he ran a hand through it, a futile effort as the biting wind blew it back into disarray within moments. 

It was beautiful up here, Kakashi thought, albeit frigid. The path they followed was one of the major trade routes, so frequent travel kept it mostly clear of snow. Looking off the path, though, the beauty of the nation was clear. Tall, thin evergreens stood proudly over soft snow that glittered in the daylight. Bright red birds flew from tree to tree, picking at pinecones to find seeds and other food. The heavy snow muffled the ambient sounds of the travelling party, and their boots crunching in the snow created the only real noise in the otherwise silent woods. It was peaceful, and Kakashi could see the appeal despite the hostile weather. 

By the time they reached the gates of their destination, Kakashi felt less charitable towards the weather and significantly less impressed by nature’s majesty. His feet were soaked from trudging through the slush, and his toes were starting to go numb. He tried not to breathe too deep of a sigh of relief as they passed into Hasetsu.

It was a small village, with squat, pale buildings that seemed to blend in with the snow around them. Each home had wood stacked high against the exterior walls, and the smoke rising from chimneys throughout the town hinted at the crackling fires providing heat within.

Their large party was confined to the main road, but looking around Kakashi saw a complex network of icy channels weaving among the buildings. These were dominated by pedestrians, who glided across the ice pathways on skates, gracefully navigating the crowded paths as they moved between buildings. He itched to explore, to leave the caravan behind and take in this new place, but there was still a mission to see through.

And at any rate, he had been in the cold for the better part of the day. The urge to warm his icy fingers won out as he followed the party into the inn that was serving as the dormitories of the training camp. 

“Welcome to Hasetsu village and training grounds, Jirou-sama,” a staff member at the desk exclaimed, “you’re earlier than we were expecting. Your rooms are not ready yet, I apologize. But I can take your things if you’d like.” Jirou and Goro conferred for a moment, and Goro came forward, the unofficial spokesman of the group. 

“Yes, that will be fine, I’m sure we can make ourselves comfortable until they are ready,” he replied, polite as ever.

The attendant clasped her hands together, thinking. “Actually, you’ve arrived at an excellent time. Tonight is our faculty exhibition, it would be an honor if you were to attend. We would love for you all to see the talented staff Jirou-sama will be working with while he trains here. Please, join us, the event will be starting soon.”

Jirou, who had been complaining about how soggy his shoes were for the last hour, perked up immediately at the opportunity to judge his future teachers, and Goro glanced Kakashi’s way. “Will you join us as well, before you have to head back?” 

_Why not,_ Kakashi thought to himself. He had already been planning on spending the night before turning back towards Konoha, and Tsunade had obviously been aware of something in the town she thought he would enjoy. _There must be some good reason I had to trek all the way into this frigid wasteland._

\---

The faculty exhibition was more interesting than Kakashi had expected. Clearly he hadn’t been paying attention when Minato-sensei had dragged him to the Games all those years ago, figure skating was much more impressive than he remembered. And they had been given good seats – the perks of travelling with a minor lord, he supposed. 

Even so, he was distracted as the first few skaters came out – it was too good an opportunity for surveillance to pass up. He scanned the crowd throughout the junior staff performances, ignoring the flashy moves and dramatic music in favor of looking for any potential threats or familiar faces out of habit. 

Jirou was wide-eyed next to him; he excitedly turned to Goro when the final junior member completed their routine to wonder which of the next group would be his teacher. 

Kakashi felt, rather than saw, when the next skater took the ice – Jirou, in a hurry to get back to his seat, elbowed him in the head. Kakashi turned to glare at the boy, but something caught his eye on the ice instead. 

If he were a lesser shinobi, Kakashi might have fallen out of his seat in shock. As it was, he froze, barely registering the name being announced that did not match its owner on the ice. 

Kakashi blinked, rubbed his eyes, blinked again. But the picture before him did not change – standing at the center of the rink was one Umino Iruka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten back into Yuri on Ice lately so this is very self indulgent, but hopefully someone out there will enjoy it as well~~ 
> 
> Hoping to update every week or so. I haven't seen the movie where they go to Land of Snow so I'm just appropriating it as a good location for a wintery story. 
> 
> Title comes from a John Muir quote.


	2. Chapter 2

Kakashi stared. But his eyes were not misleading him – the man receiving a warm round of applause as he glided to the center of the ice was definitely Konoha’s most beloved academy teacher.

But this was an Iruka that Kakashi had never seen before. His scar was hidden through either makeup or a jutsu, Kakashi couldn’t tell from the distance. Rather than its ususal unruly ponytail, Iruka’s hair had been drawn into a thick braid that ran along the side of his head before being pulled into an elegant high ponytail. 

Iruka wasn’t wearing his standard Konoha uniform, either. Like the other skaters, he wore a costume, although his was less ornate than those who had been covered head to toe in glamorous sequined leotards or billowing tunics. Iruka’s ensemble was more simple, but no less arresting. He wore a white collared shirt with the sleeves pushed up, unbuttoned to a deep v with a low cut, skintight black shirt underneath. He also wore suspenders over the shirt, although his black pants clung so tightly to his legs that Kakashi hardly thought they were necessary. 

He would have been nearly unrecognizable to Kakashi had it not been for his eyes. Iruka’s face had always been open and expressive, and even when the chuunin made an effort to mask his emotions his eyes couldn’t help but show what he was feeling. On the ice, Iruka’s eyes were closed, focused. When he opened them, Kakashi could read the determination in his gaze from his slightly furrowed brow and the almost imperceptible tightening around his eyes.

He looked different in the center of the rink – elegant and composed, although the spark of excitement in his eyes betrayed the underlying firey personality that Kakashi was used to. He seemed brimming with confidence and Kakashi found himself shifting in his seat, drawn to the charisma of this new Iruka out on the ice.

Unbidden, Kakashi’s eyes traced the outline of the other man’s legs. The pants really left very little to the imagination, he noted faintly, and while Kakashi had assumed that Iruka kept up with his training like any other shinobi, the tight garment made it clear that hiding away those calves under Konoha’s standard baggy uniform was a _crime_. 

As the applause died down, Iruka took one last deep breath before falling into his starting pose, hands slightly outstretched before him and his head angled down to the side. 

After a moment of silence, the music begain – a series of deep, minor chords on a low stringed instrument that Kakashi couldn’t quite identify. Iruka slid forward slowly, gaining momentum as he turned his skates so that the blades were turned out; leaning backwards and moving in an arc across the ice in time with an especially low note.

“He has a beautiful spreadeagle,” Kakashi heard Jirou murmur to Goro, who nodded in assent. Raising his eyebrows at the suggestive name, Kakashi focused again on the man performing in front of them. 

As the music began to swell, Iruka glided across the rink, picking up speed and suddenly turning so he was skating backwards. He stretched his arms out in front of him, and pushed off of a single skate into the air, spinning too rapidly for Kakashi to count the rotations. 

Kakashi stiffened. Holding poses across the ice was one thing, but surely no one could land something like that on those tiny blades…?

But Iruka did land – on one foot with his arms extended beside him, much to Kakashi’s surprise – and the crowd burst into applause. No one but Kakashi seemed blown away by the jump, and as Iruka began moving in slow, graceful patterns across the ice again Kakashi found he couldn’t look away. The first jump had happened so fast – if he took his eyes off the ice or even blinked for one second, he could miss the next one. 

As Iruka began to pick up speed again, Kakashi felt the energy starting to build and crackle through the rink like electricity. The music hit a high note and again Iruka flung himself into the air, landing and then, incredibly, launching directly into another jump. 

_Unbelievable,_ Kakashi thought, trying to remember back to when Minato had insisted they go see the skaters in Konoha. He really must not have been paying attention, to have forgotten something like this. 

As the sound of the orchestra swelled up again, Iruka stopped traveling across the ice, crouching low as he spun on one blade. Just watching him made Kakashi dizzy, and he couldn’t imagine the other man would be able to retain his grace after his sudden performance as a one-man hurricane for what felt like an age. 

But then Iruka was up again, showing no signs of being unbalanced as he leaned forward into a delicate arabesque.

Kakashi knew that he really should be turning his gaze back to the crowd – even though his duty was technically completed, having delivered Jirou and his entourage safely to Hasetsu, it wouldn’t do to be distracted in unfamiliar territory. And yet – he just couldn’t tear his gaze away from Iruka’s graceful form. Instead, he leaned further forward, completely captivated. Each time Iruka launched off the ground he held his breath, only exhaling when the man landed safely on the thin blades.

“Jirou, look at the way he raises his arms above his head as he jumps,” Goro narrated to his charge. “That makes it much harder, but isn’t it beautiful?” 

Kakashi found himself nodding along with the older man’s explanation. Iruka’s skating _was_ beautiful – the sinfully tight pants, his delicate posture, and the purposeful lines he drew across the ice as he moved with surprising flexibility combined to create a living work of art. But he was powerful, too, as Kakashi was reminded each time Iruka leapt into the sky.

Kakashi gasped in unison with the crowd when Iruka wobbled on his next landing, although he did not fall. His heart was pounding, completely caught up in the exhilarating performance. Part of him cursed Tsunade’s lens in his eye – but even without the sharingan’s recording abilities, Kakashi knew this was a performance he wouldn’t forget.

The energy of the music had fallen, slightly, as one long, high note rang through the rink. Iruka stretched one leg out behind him, raising his arms above his head and arching his back as he entered a lunge and glided in a graceful arc across the ice. Kakashi shivered at the combination of the music and Iruka’s careful stillness, an unexpected moment of quiet in the routine. 

Then, suddenly, the performance reached its climax, and Kakashi found himself leaning in with excitement once more, utterly captivated. Iruka turned into a tight spin on one foot, arms clasped above his head, before coming to an abrupt halt as the music stopped and he hit his final pose, dramatically looking over one shoulder with an arm outstretched. Even from a distance Kakashi could tell his chest was heaving, and his face was flushed with exertion as he caught his breath, eyes tracing across the crowd. Kakashi felt drained too, coming down from the adrenaline rush of just watching the performance.

Kakashi knew the moment Iruka saw him, eyes widening imperceptibly as their gazes met. As the applause rose, they were both frozen – Kakashi knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t tear his eyes from that captivating presence on the ice, he was absolutely transfixed in Iruka’s gaze and Iruka – Iruka licked his lips and _winked_ before seeming to remember himself, tearing his gaze away from Kakashi’s as he turned to wave and bow deeply at the audience before skating at off the ice.

 _Oh,_ Kakashi thought, trying to calm his suddenly rapid heartbeat and banish the flush rising on his face, and failing miserably at both, _fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as soon as he gets off the ice Iruka has to lay facedown on the ground in agony for a while because he just _winked_ at _Kakashi_ what was he _thinking_
> 
> anyways Iruka's performance is loosely based on this free skate to Elgar's Cello Concerto in E Minor: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkGTE2HENNg&frags=pl%2Cwn (but with...better clothes) -- unfortunately there's not very many videos of it since it's kind of old, but the song felt right for some reason
> 
> i feel like he would be very clean & artistic but wouldn't necessarily have consistent quads as he's not actually a professional skater ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ what can you do
> 
> longer update next time! maybe they'll even actually talk to each other


	3. Chapter 3

Kakashi made his way to breakfast early the next day. The inn attendant had informed him that the whole camp ate together, guests included, so he had decided to take her at her word and use the opportunity to gather some information. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Iruka was all the way out here – as far as he knew, the teacher rarely took missions outside the village, and certainly not solo operations far from the borders of the Land of Fire. Whatever Iruka was doing here, Kakashi needed to know. It was dangerous to walk around oblivious, no matter how safe the camp seemed.

He thought back to his conversation with Goro the previous night. After sitting through the remaining performances in a daze, he had pulled the other man aside as they left the rink and walked back to the inn, snow crunching underfoot.

“Something’s come up, Goro-san, and I’m going to be staying a while longer,” Kakashi had begun, voice low. The other man’s eyes had widened slightly in concern and he had turned to meet Kakashi’s eyes.

“Nothing too dangerous, I trust? Will Jirou-sama be safe here?” he had questioned under his breath. Kakashi had frowned, considering.

“I don’t believe he’s in any immediate danger. At any rate, I’ll stay until I can guarantee the safety of both yourself and Jirou-sama.” Goro’s shoulders had slumped forward in relief as he let out a shaky breath. “But Goro-san, I need you to make sure Jirou-sama doesn’t tell _anyone_ that I joined you on the trip.”

Goro had nodded at that, swearing that he would ensure Jirou understood the importance of remaining silent, and Kakashi had breathed a sigh of relief, trusting the older man would kep his identity hidden. 

The clatter of a dish being set down across from him drew Kakashi out of his thoughts. 

“Good morning,” Iruka’s soft voice came from across the table, cutting through the noise of the students and faculty eating around them. “Is this seat open?” 

“Yes, please sit,” Kakashi answered. Iruka seemed to be frowning at him ever so slightly, but still sat before him, nodding his head politely as he took a seat. 

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a few moments, Kakashi pulling down the large scarf he had wrapped aroud his face in order to sip at his tea as Iruka ate. If Iruka was surprised at seeing his face with so little effort, his normally expressive face didn’t show it aside from a slight lift of the eyebrows. 

As Iruka gestured for him to pass a dish, Kakashi realized he was working Konoha’s hand signs into his movements. First was _undercover,_ which Kakashi rolled his eyes at – _obviously_ – then _purpose_ , shaped into a question. Although his phrasing was a little choppy, Iruka’s signs themselves were textbook-perfect, taking Kakashi by surprise until he realized that Iruka’s lesson plans undoubtedly contained a section on field communications. Kakashi’s musing broke off as he realized Iruka was looking at him expectantly. 

“Ah, I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? How rude of me, I apologize. My name is –” he scrambled for a moment to remember his hastily constructed cover – “Takeshi, I arrived with one of the new students last night. We were just in time to see the faculty exhibition. Very impressive, sensei.” 

Iruka’s face finally showed some of his usual emotion at that, a hot flush rising on his cheeks as he frowned with – embarrassment? Annoyance? Kakashi couldn’t tell. But the man’s blush reminded him of the end of the previous night’s performance again and Kakashi swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit flustered.

“Well, I hope the student you came with will enjoy his time here. Will you be staying with him long?” Kakashi raised his eyebrows at Iruka’s unsubtle line of questioning. 

“Who can say where the road of life will lead? I may stay longer – now that I’m here it seems a shame to not learn about this camp – it must be an esteemed place to have teachers such as yourself working here,” he said, eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile. 

He heard Iruka take a deep breath from across the table. Now _this_ was a familiar sound, Kakashi mused, and one he was quite frequently responsible for whenever he turned in a hastily scribbled report in the mission room. It usually preceeded a great deal of yelling; Kakashi instinctively tensed in preparation.

But Iruka merely set his chopsticks down – perhaps with a bit more force than was strictly necessary – and stood sharply.

“It was nice meeting you, Takeshi-san. Perhaps we’ll see each other around camp,” he said, tone short and tense. He seemed to hesitate as he stood, as if debating whether to say something more, but whatever it was he evidently decided against it, instead turning abruptly and stalking away. 

Well, that hadn’t exactly gone how Kakashi had planned, he reflected as he watched Iruka stride away. He trusted that the other man had at least picked up on Kakashi’s status update – an escort mission, followed by a change in plans with an unknown timeline until he had gathered more information – but he’d been hoping to get more out of Iruka. As it stood, the only thing he had learned was that Iruka apparently thought he was an idiot who couldn’t be trusted not to break a fellow Konoha shinobi’s cover.

Kakashi let out a resigned sigh. He’d just have to get information on his own, and hopefully catch Iruka alone later so they could speak candidly. He moved to leave the table, mentally reviewing the layout of the training camp in search of a good starting point. 

His conversation with Iruka lingered in his mind as he made his first foray into the rest of the training facility. He couldn’t help but feel he’d misstepped somehow. Iruka’s annoyance had been clear when he left, but Kakashi also thought he had seen something like hurt in the other man’s eyes. 

\---

Kakashi spent the better part of the morning roaming the camp. It wasn’t especially large. The inn served as the lodging for both trainees and faculty, with a few reserved rooms for travelers. An adjacent building had studio space where students seemed to be rehearsing routines off the ice and stretching, as well as one large (regulation sized, a passing employee had bragged) ice rink, which seemed to have a rotating schedule of courses for various age groups. 

But after getting the lay of the land, Kakashi realized that there wasn’t all that much else he could do without more information. He genuinely had no idea why Iruka was here, and for all intents and purposes the place seemed like a typical school – even if it was teaching a rather unique subject. Begrudingly admitting to himself that he needed some type of intel, Kakashi tried to figure out where he could find Iruka.

The best place to do that, he decided, would be at the ice rink. With all the classes rotating through, Iruka was bound to show up eventually.

\---

Eventually, Kakashi started hoping after sitting in the frigid air of the rink for the better part of an hour, would hopefully be sooner rather than later. The skaters didn’t seem to mind the cold, and he had certainly been in less comfortable conditions on missions, but then the skaters were moving around and he was confined to sitting on a cold metal bench, with only his scarf for warmth. 

Just as he was starting to consider giving up, Iruka’s class finally came through the door and took the ice. They were young; no more than six years old by Kakashi’s estimation. Some were still skating with the aid of a chair or bucket to stabilize them. Iruka’s talents were wasted on them, he thought wryly – but then Iruka had a reputation for being excellent with the younger children at the academy. 

He did seem terribly fond of them. As the large group shrieked and slid haphazardly in slow circles around the rink, Kakashi caught the corners of the teacher’s mouth twitching upwards with amusement at the antics of his students. 

Kakashi snorted under his breath as one of the kids stumbled and slid out across the center of the ice, flailing his arms and shouting; it was almost like being with Naruto. But then he stiffened – it was faint, but he could have sworn he felt a spike of chakra from the ice. Flicking his eyes over to Iruka, he could swear the man looked suddenly tense; his previous easy, relaxed gaze tightening as a slight frown settled on his face.

“Quite the handful, aren’t they?” Kakashi started at the sudden voice next to him; he had been so absorbed in the action on the ice that he hadn’t realized he had company. 

“Yes,” he responded tentatively, “I certainly couldn’t manage them.” 

The man standing next to him let out a laugh at that, loud and sudden. “No, neither could I,” he chuckled, “I don’t know how Kaito-sensei does it, we’re lucky to have him. The name’s Shisou, by the way. It’s lucky that as assistant headmaster I don’t have to teach any of this age group, they’d eat me alive.” 

Shisou was shorter than Kakashi, with black hair buzzed on the sides but left long on top and pulled into a tight topknot. He wore black sweatpants and a deep red jacket that bore the Hasetsu Camp logo on the front and his name across the back. A team jacket, Kakashi decided, or perhaps the instructor’s uniform. Iruka – Kaito, he corrected himself – wore something similar, he realized as he looked back to the class. 

Shisou’s smile was friendly, but Kakashi saw the strength underneath the training gear; his lean muscles were coiled tight. He seemed young to be an assistant headmaster, Kakashi thought, but then again age had never been a guarantee of talent. Just look at his own career.

Belatedly, Kakashi realized he’d been silent for too long. “I’m Takeshi,” he said in what he hoped was an apologetic voice. “Sorry, I got distracted thinking about the horrors of trying to teach them,” he broke off, gesturing vaguely at the class on the ice.

Shisou laughed again at that. “Fair, Takeshi-san. Don’t let yourself get caught up in that thought for too long. What brings you to Hasetsu Camp?” 

Shisou seemed friendly enough, but Kakashi was still wary to give too much information before he knew the full situation in the camp. Luckily, his aimless wandering that morning had given him time to come up with a better cover story than the one he had offered Iruka. 

“Ah, I came upon a group headed this way on the road.” He hoped Shisou wouldn’t have too many questions about _which_ group, exactly, he had run into. “My own son has taken an interest in skating lately, although I don’t know if he’s got the talent for it. He’s still young – about their age,” Kakashi nodded at the students on the ice, “but he seems to pick a new hobby every week. Still, I thought I’d see what had the rest of the group so excited.” 

“Is that so?” Shisou fixed him with an assessing look, and Kakashi hoped he wasn’t coming off as too suspicious of a character. Undercover missions really weren’t his forte – the Copy-Nin was too well known to be inconspicuous – and he fought the sudden urge to cover his face with his scarf under the other man’s gaze.

A sudden gleeful shriek from the ice cut through suddenly unsure silence. Both men looked to the antics on the ice and shuddered before exchanging a glance and a tentative smile at their shared reaction.

“Well, Kaito-sensei’s finshing up out there. Let me see if I can’t convince him to show you around. It sounds like your son would be in his class, so he’d be a good guide.” Kakashi offered up a silent prayer to whatever gods were on his side as Shisou waved Iruka over – he hadn’t had a plan, but he’d practically been handed the perfect reason to talk to Iruka and finally, _finally_ get an idea of what was going on.

But that pretense to talk to Iruka all depended on the other man being _willing_ to talk – and based on the dark glare Iruka shot Kakashi’s way that was not guaranteed. 

“Takeshi-san, this is Kaito-sensei. Our saving grace, he's a miracle worker with the kids!” Shisou clapped Iruka on the back amicably. “Sensei, Takeshi-san here has a youngster of his own and would like to learn more about the school. You wouldn’t mind showing him around now that your classes are done, would you?”

\---

As soon as Shisou had rounded the corner and the last of his footsteps faded away, Iruka rounded on Kakashi, fuming.

“Kakashi-san, _why are you here?_ ” the teacher hissed, eyes murderous. “I know you think I’m soft because I don’t leave the village that often,” and _oh,_ thought Kakashi, _that explained his sudden departure at breakfast,_ “but I am a perfectly capable shinobi and I don’t need Tsunade-sama sending you to _watch over me_ and make _snide comments_ about my abilities—”

“Iruka.” Kakashi, who had been trying and failing to get a word in through Iruka’s tirade, finally succeeded, dropping the honorific in a last-ditch effort to get the other man’s attention. It had worked, although the deep breath Iruka took told him he didn’t have much time before he really started yelling. “Tsunade-sama didn’t send me.”

It was as if a balloon had been popped; Iruka deflated in an instant, still looking suspicious but momentarily quiet.

“What?” 

“She didn’t send me – well, she did, but not to help you. Believe me, I was as surprised as you were to see a friendly face. You _are_ a friendly face, aren’t you?” Kakashi teased, unable to resist. But Iruka didn’t rise to the bait, and Kakashi turned to see that his face had fallen.

“Kakashi-san…” Iruka trailed off. “I’m sorry, I’ve been terribly rude.” He ducked his head, and Kakashi could see that the tips of his ears were pink.

Feeling the udden urge to defuse the situation and relieve the other man of his obvious discomfort, Kakashi spoke. “Ne, sensei, it’s no trouble,” he said self-consciously, trying to placate him. It didn’t work; Iruka just stiffened and didn’t reply.

A change of topic would be best, Kakashi decided as the awkward silence stretched and the tension grew. 

“Is there somewhere else we can go to talk? It’s just that I still don’t exactly… know what’s going on,” Kakashi tried. His last-ditch effort seemed to work and Iruka finally looked him in the eye again, embarrassment fading as he seemed to come to a realization.

“Oh! Right, yes of course. Ok,” he replied, flustered. “Let me just – I’ll go get out of my training gear, then maybe I can show you around town?” 

Kakashi nodded his assent and was rewarded with a wide smile from the other teacher. 

“Great,” Iruka said, “I’ll meet you out front, just give me—” he paused, thinking, “five minutes? Yeah, that should be fine.” And then he was gone, skating back across the rink towards the locker rooms.

“Oh, but sensei?” Kakashi called after the man’s retreating figure, watching him pause as Kakashi’s voice reached him, “I wasn’t teasing you. About the skating. It really was very impressive.” 

This time, he hoped, the flush that crept up the back of Iruka’s neck wasn’t anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kakashi, an idiot: *spends all night thinking abt iruka's ass, insults him within moments of seeing him the next day*


End file.
